Truth is, I like my mess. I've always been surrounded by it, and I'd hate to see it go. I've never had a fully clean room, because it makes everything feel fake in here for me. Like a hotel room. Yeah, only hotels and motels should be truly clean and fresh-smelling and shit. I've been sleeping on a bare mattress for I-don't-know-how-long, in fact. Yes, I am even too lazy to put clean sheets on the bed. Still, can't sleep on smelly ones, so I just sleep on the bare mattress instead. Dirty clothes carpet the floor, along with paperwork, receipts, books, candles and small figurines. I've even come across broken glass. Sweet. And I always do this; I start to clean everything up, and only get about halfway through the room. So when anyone walks in, the first thing encountered is the mess by the door (which makes it difficult to open all the way), and waaayyyyy in the far corner over there by the window, a patch of cleanliness! Usually the area around the computer desk is somewhat decent too, although the actual desk is overflowing with junk. Like now. I swear, I have snacks up in this motherfucker from last year. But hey, if it's sealed inside a bag, it's still good, right? [Holy shit, deja vu! I actually dreamed I typed this shit up!]